Chapter 1 The Meryton Assembly
“Charlotte, what can you tell of the Netherfield party?” Elizabeth asked. Miss King and Miss Watson both leaned nearer to listen.
“Mr. Bingley told Papa he would return with his party in time for the assembly. He means to bring a close friend from his university days and his sisters.”
Miss Watson clasped her gloved hands. “Is the university friend a single man?”
Charlotte tittered. “He is, my dear. He is orphaned, and his only remaining family is a sister about your age, fourteen or fifteen.” She glanced at Elizabeth with a grin. “And he practically owns half of Derbyshire. He brings in ten thousand a year and possesses a great estate in the north.”
Elizabeth looked at Jane with widening eyes. Jane only shook her head in disbelief.
“I cannot imagine how it would feel to have ten thousand a year,” Elizabeth said.
“I should go to London and buy all the slippers and gowns and bonnets I could wish for,” Miss King replied. Jane and Elizabeth laughed softly.
Charlotte continued, “Ruthie says they arrived at the house late yesterday afternoon, and the sister who is his hostess is as mean as a viper. She nearly snapped poor Angie’s head off when she failed to curtsey deeply enough. Evidently, she thinks herself royalty.”
Charlotte lifted her hand to her chest. “She has some right to think so. Miss Bingley is said to have a twenty-thousand-pound dowry and was educated at a fine seminary for young ladies. We may all come under her censure during her residence at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth turned to Jane. “I hope I do not have much to do with the lady.” She glanced down at her gown. “With a dowry of only one thousand after Mamma passes to her reward, and two hand-me-down evening gowns, she will find plenty to censure.”
Charlotte wrapped an arm around her waist. “Lizzy, never you mind. Your gown may be Jane’s hand-me-down, but I assure you, the men do not even see it. They see only the beautiful woman who wears it. With your lovely bright eyes and lively manner, they will not care a whit for the hem.”
Elizabeth giggled and pointed to the seam. “You mean they will not mind that my hem is mended and the patch is fraying?”
Miss King squeezed her hand. “Lizzy, I had not noticed. Charlotte is right. No one sees your gowns; they are too busy attending to what you will say next, and hoping it is not at their expense.”
The young women were laughing modestly when they noticed the murmur around them fall silent. They turned toward the entrance and saw the Netherfield party arrive.
Charlotte whispered, “The handsome man with the ginger hair is Mr. Bingley, and the elegant redhead on his arm is his unmarried sister, Miss Bingley.”
Elizabeth observed the woman as she surveyed the room, her nose lifted in disdain. “Ah, yes, the viper,” she murmured. Jane moved nearer to Lizzy, the better to hear.
Charlotte went on. “The older couple is Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. She is the eldest of the siblings.”
Elizabeth studied the couple. They were dressed as elegantly as the younger siblings, yet they smiled, nodded, and shook hands with those being introduced. “They look well pleased to be among country folk. I could like that couple very well,” she said.
Then she saw him, the man of her dreams, standing in the entrance, tall, handsome, dark-haired, and elegantly dressed in black with a snow-white cravat. She sighed. “Look. Sir Lancelot has walked into our lives straight out of the pages of The Legends of King Arthur.”
Jane giggled. “Lizzy, you can be so dramatic.”
All the young women were now looking at Mr. Darcy. Miss Watson said, “I see what you mean, Lizzy. Look at that unruly lock of hair brushing his brow.”
Miss King added, “Look at his lower lip. It is so plump.” Elizabeth smiled but had to admit, his full lower lip was enticing in a way she had never experienced before.
Her raptures were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet.
“Come, Jane. Sir William Lucas agreed to introduce us.” She ran her gaze over her second daughter.
“You might as well come too, Lizzy, though I do not know what good it will do. Mary, you come as well.” She turned a firm eye on Elizabeth.
“I will not stand for your tricks, Lizzy. Come along.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her mother’s back and followed Jane.
Mr. Collins had been standing in the background observing Elizabeth.
When he was introduced to his cousins, Mrs. Bennet had gone on at length about her eldest daughter’s beauty and elegant manners.
But the girl, in his estimation, was a simpering ninny, with no conversation and, he guessed, no fire in her blood either.
Now he watched as his intended was introduced to the London party.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, was embarrassed as she stood primly behind her two youngest sisters, who were giggling and jesting all the while as Sir William Lucas presented them in turn.
Mr. Bingley was convivial; Miss Bingley, as expected, barely civil; the Hursts were all politeness; and Mr. Darcy did not look at them at all. He gave a curt nod and stepped away.
Elizabeth watched as Miss Bingley followed after him.
She took his arm and, being a tall woman, easily tilted her head to whisper in his ear.
She chuckled softly at whatever she said and pressed herself against him.
Elizabeth was surprised to witness such intimacy in public.
They must be a courting couple, she thought.
Perhaps they are betrothed. They are well-suited, both tall, elegant, richly dressed, proud and arrogant.
She sighed inwardly. So much for the Arthurian dream, Sir Lancelot, and heroic conquests.
Still, he was beautiful and she took great pleasure looking at him.
She had never seen such a man, but he was proud; he had avoided the introduction by walking away.
She drew her gaze from him and caught Mr. Collins staring at her.
She flushed. Had he seen her staring after Mr. Darcy?
Had he guessed at her unruly thoughts? Then she turned away as she realized her cousin's eyes were raking down her figure.
He was leading Miss King to the dance floor, yet he had roving eyes.
She looked down. Was her clothing amiss?
Was there a torn sleeve, or was an ankle showing?
A brief check showed everything in order.
She turned to find Charlotte, but her friend was dancing.
Mr. Bingley was escorting Jane onto the floor, and Elizabeth smiled at the modest pleasure on her sister’s face.
She looked around, found an empty chair, and sat down.
Perhaps she would have a partner for the next dance.
Mary joined her. “Lizzy, I wish there were more partners as amiable as Jane’s. Everyone here is either married or ancient. With our friends gone away to university, or to the continent to serve, we spend most of our time sitting out dances.”
Elizabeth tilted her chin down and sighed. “And that bodes ill for our marriage prospects. I wish Papa would send Jane and me to London. Perhaps Uncle Gardiner could find us husbands among his friends and business acquaintance.”
Mary took her hand and pressed it. “Then you could invite me to visit and find me a husband as well.”
“I would do so for both you and Kitty. But here we are, buried in the country with no prospects to speak of.” Elizabeth looked at her sister, her eyes solemn.
“Oh, Mary, I do not ask for much. I do not care for wealth or position. I only wish for a man who will love and respect me, and whom I, in turn, can love and respect.” She looked up and added softly, “From my lips to God’s ears. ”
The two sisters turned when they heard Mr. Bingley importuning his friend.
“Come now, Darcy, you must dance,” Bingley urged. “I cannot bear to see you standing about like this. You would do far better to dance.”
“I most certainly shall not,” Darcy replied coolly. “You know very well how I dislike dancing with strangers. At an assembly as low as this one, it would be intolerable. Your sisters are already engaged, and I see no other lady in the room with whom it would not feel a penance to stand up.”
“I would not be so particular as you are,” Bingley laughed, “not for a kingdom! Upon my word, I have never been in a room with so many pleasant young women. Several of them are uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl here,” Darcy observed, his gaze fixed on the eldest Miss Bennet.
“Oh, she is quite the most beautiful creature I have ever seen! She is an angel, Darcy, but one of her sisters sits just behind you, Miss Elizabeth, who is very pretty as well.”
“Which do you mean? I was introduced to five daughters and did not distinguish one from the other,” Darcy said, turning briefly to look.
After a moment’s glance, he withdrew his gaze with studied indifference and said coldly, “She is tolerable, but just barely, certainly not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Mary turned to her sister. Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she looked at the elegant man, then she shut her eyes.
She was not good enough, certainly not for this paragon.
She squeezed her eyes tight to keep the tears at bay.
It was nothing different than what Mamma had always said of her.
And she had not been enough for Nicholas either.
Mary patted her hand in comfort. “Do not pay him any attention, Lizzy. Everyone says you are as beautiful as Jane. You are counted among the local beauties.”
Charlotte slipped into the empty chair on her other side. “Lizzy, that was dreadfully rude of him to say, but Mary is right. You are a beautiful woman, no matter what he thinks. That man had no call to speak of you so, unless he meant to shake off his friend by offering an insult.”